phone call
by dezel
Summary: There's a slightly annoyed sigh on the other end of the receiver, and a soft clicking noise. "What do you want, Alfred?"


_i'll write something happier after my appointment._

"Hey, Ivan!"

There's a slightly annoyed sigh on the other end of the receiver, and a soft clicking noise. "What do you want, Alfred?"

"Uh, j-just to talk!" Alfred swallows and draws in a deep breath. "'s that a crime now?"

He could almost see Ivan frowning on the other end, deep lines curved onto his narrow, defined face. Geez, the mental image of him seems so far away and so close at the same time. Alfred realizes that he misses Ivan. "I suppose not." Comes the bored sigh. "Aren't you on some sort of mission?"

"Uh. Sure." Alfred coughs a little and grimaces. He hurts. "I um. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." He could almost see Ivan quirking a thick brow. "I know I don't usually 'pologize, but I feel like I should. Leave nothing in the air." There's no answer from Ivan, and Alfred bites his lip. He counts the seconds in his head. "...Ivan?" His voice is tentative.

"Are you drunk?"

"Nah, man. Not drunk. Genuinely do feel guilty 'bout our fight." Alfred eyes the body near him. Life is such a joke. "I really didn't mean what I said. Honest."

"Then what's going on?" Now, Ivan does sound genuinely concerned and Alfred almost laughs, but he lets out a little cough.

"Nothin'! They say this is gonna be dangerous, so thought I'd call-"

"You said that." Ivan falls quiet for a moment. "Are you scared?"

Alfred shrugs weakly, and then remembers that Ivan can't see him. "Like hell." His voice shakes. "I'm really fucking scared."

"Then do what I suggested-"

"'m not about to throw away a job I like!" Alfred snaps and grimaces. "Ah fuck. Let's not do this right now." He drums his fingers on his leg. His clothes are torn, blood staining the rest of the fabric and his ribs hurt. The bullet is deep, and he can feel liquid filling his lungs. "Were you in the middle of something?"

"Just paperwork."

"Oh." Alfred hesitates. He doesn't want to ask. "D'ya want me to let you go?"

"No, that's okay." Ivan lets out another sigh. "It was beginning to get on my nerves. How are things there?"

"Cold." He's long since stopped being able to really feel anything, if he were honest. But he's not. "Hectic." The guy they wanted set off a bomb. Everything after that is blurry. Alfred rubs an eye. "Can't wait to get home."

"I cannot wait to have you home."

Alfred shifts a little and grunts a little bit in pain. "I think I may put in my letter of resignation." He licks his lips. "Maybe just work locally, I don't think I can handle being away from you for much longer." His words are so hollow, meaningless. Alfred is positive that once Ivan figures out what's going on, he'll find a way to resurrect Alfred and kill him, himself. Admittedly, he can never really handle being far away from Ivan.

They had met at a pivotal time in Alfred's life. His parents had divorced recently, and he had been considering killing himself by jumping and Ivan had stopped him. Or more, his dog had. Ivan had sneaked out with his dog, and been walking him along a hidden path towards the mountains that only few know about. The dog had started to bark and broke from Ivan's grip, running towards a distraught Alfred. When Ivan found him, instead of talking him out of it, he _punched_ Alfred for it. Naturally, Alfred returned that punch and it turned into a scuffle.

The events after that didn't matter, and they had become something like friends. Ivan was the only one who had been able to get under Alfred's skin, and Alfred had gotten Ivan to lose his composure multiple times. Ivan's grandfather, Alfred had learned, liked to drink too much and mistook Ivan has a punching bag. They went to high school together, graduated, and eventually, college. In their small town, rumors had started and neither denied it nor confirmed it.

Finally, Alfred had suggested they leave and live in a bigger town. Nobody had to know.

"...Is something wrong?" There it is.

"Everythin's fine!" He puts on a false cheerful tone. Ivan doesn't need to worry. Ivan doesn't need to know. He just wants to hear his voice. Death is slow and cruel sometimes.

"You're stupid." Ivan grumbles. That's right. Ivan had called him stupid the first time they met, even. "Stupid, impulsive, childish."

"So're you."

"Yes." Ivan agrees. "You never listen. You do such stupid things-"

"And that's why you love me, right? 'Cause I'm all those things."

"I suppose." Alfred lets out a soft laugh at that. "They're your worst and most endearing traits." Alfred realizes that he's starting to feel heavy, exhausted and he shivers. Alfred is certain that it wasn't this cold just a few minutes ago.

"Hey." His tone changes.

"What?"

"Tell me that you love me." There's this silence, and Alfred digs his fingers into the fabric of his pants. " _Please._ " Fear settles in.

"I love you." There's a warmth in Ivan's words that Alfred has never heard before. Sincere. "Even if you are an idiot."

Alfred laughs a little. "I love you too," he hesitates. "Hey, uh. Gotta go. Need t' sleep before we start the mission."

"Stay safe."

"Yeah. Good luck with your paperwork." Alfred nestles himself against the tree, peering up at the sky. Against the starless, dark sky, he can see the emergency lights of the helicopter, no doubt searching for them. _'Bout time,_ he thinks with annoyance. He hears the crunching of snow, and everything settles in quietly and his head droops, blurred vision of black work boots muddy.


End file.
